


Rapture 1968

by Chronicbane



Category: BioShock
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Plasmids, Rapture (Bioshock)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 20:48:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10975050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chronicbane/pseuds/Chronicbane
Summary: We know the fate of Mark Meltzer from Bioshock 2, his last words referred to the idea of others finding Rapture before being transformed into a Big Daddy under Sofia Lamb's hands. But what happened to his daughter, Cindy Meltzer? The question Mark's disciple, Keagan Snyder, couldn't seem to turn away from. Can the scientist ensure Cindy's return from Rapture?  Or will the city prove to be too much? Could Keagan find Cindy in time?





	Rapture 1968

1968, 63 degrees, 30’ N, 28 degrees 54’ W, Within the waters of the Arctic Ocean the space between Greenland and Iceland.  
On maps, there should be nothing. But as of recently a distress signal from the S.S. Nellie Bly, captained by Casey Ferrence had thrown a red flag. Only hours after that Icelandic coast guard had arrived, a curious soul was out on the trail for a man named Mark Meltzer. The face behind this Manhunter is a scientist, rough and vulgar but sickeningly loyal and determined. Smart for his age he is surprisingly observant under all that violent tendency. Again, under all this young heart is a scientist by the name of Keagan Snyder.  
The hair trigger young man worked closely with Mark during their research, through thick and thin, Keagan remained supportive of his mentor. And on October 23rd, 1967, Marks daughter, Cindy Meltzer was abducted. The young scientist could only imagine what that would do to a parent. Days would pass, and he could only watch as this gravely unfortunate happening unraveled Mark and Mark’s relationship with his wife. The father would search night and day, and when he was in his lab for work, time would be spent researching any signs that would lead him to his six-year-old, only child. It wasn't long into June when Mark’s wife had explained to him that they needed to give up the search, that Mark needed to see someone and get help shortly after she pushed forward the divorce papers.  
That’s when Keagan’s full support began. He had hoped on Mark’s investigation entirely, dropping all his research onto anyone who was willing to continue it. Keagan wasn't after just helping a stolen child, his drive came from more the idea of another unknown hand being responsible, somewhere unfathomable and only explained in tethered writings or slurred words from those who were too crazy to listen to. He was in it for discovery mostly, and he wasn't ashamed to admit it. Who cares why he went if he's still going to make the impossible happen.  
Sure, the young heart felt out of place on the vessel that rocked almost ninety degrees one way and ninety degrees the other on the vast area of dark mass. Something in him has sparked, perhaps it was the thrill of the unknown or the pressure of recovering a lost life, he would ask himself, “Could I do it? The unimaginable?” Only he could discover that. He’s learned no one else will be able to honestly decide for him, he alone would have to answer that for himself.  
He had disobeyed Mark’s demands for him to remain in America. Keagan wormed his way onto a ship anyway, paying a pretty penny to the captain to give him a ride on his way through to Iceland. After mentioning to the Captain about a Phantom Lighthouse, the sailor seemed to lock up. But the pry of a couple zeros on the end of his extra paycheck was enough to get the captain to agree with the proposition.  
The water in the air stung Keagan’s skin, cold and biting. The moon overhead reflected off every wet surface and in which case was everything in sight. Towering waves almost encasing them in a blanket of darkness, the young heart was trying to discover exactly what was in the air that made the hair on the back of his neck rise to attention.  
The men around him shouted and scurried along the expanse of the deck, a sudden crack in the sky opens no longer than half a second, delivering a blinding light and providing an aggressive growl that would travel through the tension like it owned it, snapping at his eardrums and sending a shudder through his chest. Keagan is tossed about unwillingly, slipping and fumbling about with no room for pause.  
Keagan becomes torn between shielding his eyes from the pelting rain and holding onto something to keep himself on the ship. When he looks up, he is in awe and disbelief, eyeing the moon that had become level with the beaten soaked deck. His stomach sways with the surface below him, sending him into another discombobulated state of mind. He can hear the others shouting, but he can't listen to their words. Keagan's adrenaline is running not out of fear exactly but more out of the thrill of a new experience.  
A sudden pause in the chaos around him allows his mind to contemplate the next course of action for his body to take. In the back of his mind; however, He knows something terrible is about to happen, the calm before the storm. And over the roar of the elements, one last shout pierces his ears,  
“Brace! - “  
Before Keagan can act, his body jolts forward, he braces against the deck hard with his arms flailing a grasping for purchase on anything before he’s sent sliding down the now vertical ship deck. Another bone shuddering attack on the ship knocks the young scientist into the air, he flails his arms for anything to register on. His mind is far too busy to feel the impending dissolution. Instead, he is quickly trying to log where he was on the ship. IN one swift motion the ship juts back, catching Keagan in everything but a deft way, his vision is thoroughly jarred as he stumbles to stand, only realizing too late that standing was the worst thing he could have done. When he’s thrown off his feet into a pallet of cargo the boat begins to settle, he pushes himself off the river running off the deck. And with that, the shouting has returned to the thick weather around them.  
Releasing a small groan, the aching all through his core unsettles him. Muttering a string of curses past his chapped lips, he rubs the water from his face ignoring the sting that follows with the rest of his new bruises. As he regains his sight and collects himself, a firm and unforgiving hand clamp down on his arm, dragging him to stand up straight.  
“Get up!” A voice growls, “we need more men to tie down this cargo.” One of the crewmen, Keagan never learned all their names, of course, only their faces. “Well, Get a move on! We have merchandise getting loose, and I want to get paid!” The rough sailor orders, his thick accent almost makes the man incomprehensible over the current chaos. Keagan only offers a firm nod, looking towards the mountain of shipping material.  
The young heart stumbles forward readjusting to the new shift in motion, he scurries down to a group of clamps and straps, squinting his eyes trying to see through the hand he shields his eyes with. After examining the situation, he begins pulling and tugging on the whipping, heavy straps that manage to miraculously hold the heavy pallets to the gushing floor. He can barely feel his fingers, burning and straining to the point he contemplates if he's ripped open his skin.  
He dares not to look for confirmation, he has adjusted to the shouting and constant bombardment on his joints and skin, even so, Keagan was given a task, and he plans to see it out. A steady rocking of the ship suddenly evens out, a terrifying feeling of the somewhat firm surface below him continues to tilt, and tilt, reaching past what he had grown familiar with. The deck falls silent. And the sound of rushing water bellows ever louder overhead. A bone chilling siren clamors over the storm’s ambiance.  
“Everyone brace! Hang onto somet-”  
But it's too late, Keagan and those unfortunate enough to be out can only watch as a mountain moves in on the ship from the far side. Practically sucking them in, he can feel the pull inside his skull, he grips the strap tighter, wrapping it into a knot around his hand as he backs up against one of the crates nearby.  
But in one loud crash, the water and ship collide with breathtaking force. Keagan loses his footing, dangling on the strap as the boat is sent almost ninety degrees, a rush of cold water attacks his system, yanking on his placid body and pulling him away from everything he clings too. He holds his breath. Almost immediately blowing it back out in response to the cold. The strap around his hand digs into his flesh, cutting and cutting, taking every space in between. He instinctively growls out at the pain, taking water into his lungs feeling a sting as water forces its way up through his nose. The red stained strap slides loose from Keagan’s vise grip, leaving burns on the cold, wet, skin that isn't already shredded.  
Keagan registers the force to his back as another crate of cargo, violently stopping his fall, a brief moment of pause is provided as he throws his head to the side, being given the opportunity for air he struggles to clear his airways first. Keagan situates himself upon the top of one of the merchandise, hastily clarifying his vision only to be greeted with another round of water to pelt his tender skin. With his better hand, he clings to anything he can wrap his fist around. It's not long before what little breath he has becomes caught in his throat. Another towering wall of rushing water preys upon them once more.  
The young heart which generally works with things as they come has now turned desperate. Keagan’s mind races for ways to prevent what is about to happen. In one teasing motion, the boat is rocked into that dangerous degree again. The wave attacks. Violent and unforgiving, sweeping Kegan’s attempts to stay put. The phrase “Time seemed to slow” is a lie. His body is thrown from its perch, falling across the deck, a terrified howl rips through his tattered throat as he eyes down the Icey funnel of water past the ships guard rails.  
The way down twists his stomach into something caught and strangled. When the boat rises back to a more horizontal position his body tenses up, half hoping to catch one of the rails, and half hoping they don’t break something. His trajectory is interrupted, but he fights to cling on, desperate and pleading groans leave him after his body is jarred, his attempts are fruitless as his body bounces off the metal rail easily with more force than he anticipated. His scream dissipates somewhere in his throat as he can only watch as the icy void below rushes closer and closer. Out of fear and perhaps instinct he throws his arms in front of himself. With Keagan’s body making a terrible slapping sound as he breaches the surface of the water below, he wants to verbally lash out at the stinging, he feels all across his body. But his next moment of regret is opening his mouth after holding his breath for what seemed like minutes, struggling to distinguish up from down.  
Water floods into his throat, as his lungs scream at him, his eyes catch the faintest glimpse of the yellow rock above him. If it weren't for the intensity of the currents surely, he would have surfaced by now. He pushes his limbs to thrash and resist against the water as he breaches the surface. He draws in the air past the thin layer of what feels like cold black tar. It was everywhere, drowning him all at once. He flails a moment still trying to adjust to the shock of the cold temperatures with no relief in sight. Finally seeing through his tunnel vision, he shudders as the view of the massive barge rushes past him at an alarming speed.  
Before he can grow too comfortable in his new position, another bombarding attack overhead has him locking up, wide-eyed and stock still. His body is sucked into the colossal wall of water before he’s devoured entirely, at a moment he has the mind to admit how screwed he is, inevitably needing help and fast. He fights his way back towards the yellow orb, breaking the surface he gasps for much-needed air and quickly begins to navigate where he has ended up. Much to his distress, the vessel has left him yards away.  
“Over here!” Keagan shouts desperately from his core, “I’m over he-.”  
Keagan’s calls for help are silenced by an invading void once more, upon resurfacing he is starting to feel the exhaustion corrupting his body. He throws his arms forward regardless, his desperation mixing with his determination conjuring a nasty drive force internally. He’s unable to match the vessels speed, and he knows it. His body slowly stops responding to his hails. Before he allows panic to consume him, he wills himself to still, throwing himself on his back in an attempt to collect what little he has left. The task is harder than he anticipated, on top of all that his body is already beginning to numb from the cold and the feeling of rest from his straining muscles. He doesn’t give his mind time for disbelief, he acknowledges the fact of this matter, but his mind reels this fact over and over in his disheveled nerves.  
His eyes dart around frantically for any source of salvation. It’s far too dark, the combination of a cloudy sky and in the middle of the night on the barren sea does him no service. He can only make out the outlines of towering waves, stretching up for another round at his limp body. He’s adjusted to the thrashing on his body, but that doesn’t make dealing with them any easier on his quickly decaying stamina. At his office, he learned everything he could about the ocean, which made him feel more at ease with learning the basics. Now that he’s in the thick of it, however, it's left him with no defense.  
His muscles begin to cramp and sprain, he pushes past the agonizing sensation just to stay afloat, he exhales slowly in an attempt to let his body rest. But he begins to sink regardless. Keagan closes his eyes in another pleading attempt, and before he knows it, he’s being pulled into a shocked state, rendering him unconscious.  
Time and place are distorted, the darkness lulling Keagan’s mind further into submission for what seems like only a second, his body is painless. He can’t recognize this of course. He’s unconscious. What he does register, however, wakes him.  
With furrowed brows and a string of pained whimpers; he stirs. Cold and soaked, yet far warmer than he was what seemed like moments ago. At least, that’s what he wants to believe. Keagan clenches his fist feeling a wet slimy texture hugging his skin below that causes him to try and force open a dry eyelid. Before him lays a mound of stones, their edges withered by the elements and dyed green with multiple forms of algae. After blinking away his blurry vision, he squints for a clearer focus. The sound of waves reaches his ears. Then a wet sensation, cold and consuming at the base of his legs, crawling up before quickly whisking to pull him away and into its unknown jaws.  
The feeling spurs him to locate all his limbs, with his body clinging heavily to the surface that keeps him ashore, He attempts to lift his body from the soft but firm surface, his body groans at the motion pleading for him to lay back down just a while longer. The dryness in his mouth encourages against the plea, and as he rises, his spine screams through his nerves, he has an unnerving feeling something, somewhere must be broken.  
Water enter his mouth from within, sending him into a full swing of pain as he suffers from a coughing fit. At a glance, his right hand is an angry red, lacerations paint his pale skin. For a moment, he allows himself to grimace, looking around him, the sun was beginning to rise or fall, either way, he wasn’t able to concentrate enough to make a conclusion. He welcomes the light with what little there was. The sea that stretched beyond for what appeared like an eternity was seemingly flat. A spell of confusion shrouds him as he refers to his memory. Pondering what dimension he is in. If he is dead. As he pulls himself to his feet and the wave of agony washes over him, he quickly dismisses the idea.  
Dragging himself further up the rocky sanctuary that had to have rescued him from such a terrifying element such as the sea, he collects himself, resting against a larger rock trying to support his tethered ligaments he peers around the shore. The sight he registers has him doing a double take.  
The Phantom Lighthouse.  
Colossal in size, its smooth slab stone exterior walls made the sleek structure appear almost metal, damp to the touch a rock staircase vanished from around what Keagan assumed to be front, and into the sea. The green substance around the base of the lighthouse made the structure appear that much more aged.  
For years, he had only heard stories, a real-life myth right before his eyes that would continue to vanish within the strands of time. He had a further difficult time digesting what reality he was in. His eyes glance around once more, looking for a way inside when he comes to the realization that following the staircase would be his best course of action. With nothing out on the water that could provide him with aid what other choice was there?  
Obeying fates instruction, he pulls himself to his feet.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! Congratulations to those of you who legitimately read all the way through this, I hope you enjoyed it. This work isn't my first Fanfiction, but it is the first one to be shared, pretty nervous about how it will turn out or what sort of feedback I will receive (if any). I've been a big fan of Bioshock 1 and Bioshock 2, the urge to write a story within Rapture has always been there, but I've decided to step out of the comfort zone for a moment and see how things go. Thank you for your patience, I hope to hear from you soon if at all, I'm eager to get out and talk to people, whether that be about my work or about their day. Thank you once again! Be seein' you!


End file.
